


Screams in the Dark

by Lucenthia



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: One Shot, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucenthia/pseuds/Lucenthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rescued by Percy and the others from the clutches of the twin giants, they fly on the Argo II towards the Doors of Death, but Nico still has to deal with his experiences in Tartarus. He dreams, he writhes, he thrashes, and he screams in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screams in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yanlikesgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanlikesgold/gifts).



Screams in the dark.

That was what Nico heard every day on Argo II. He would hear it in the day, as he sat in the engine room staring at the cogs that churned every second; he would hear it in the wind as he sat on the masthead and stared into the shadows of the evening that used to be his home; and worst of all, he would hear it in his sleep, when he revisited Tartarus and faced insanity, agony, and other pieces of Chaos that were far worse than death.

_ Screams in the dark. _

Tartarus never let him go. It would never let any monster go once it was born, oh no, it would let them enjoy a year or so of freedom, then submit them to decades of torture where their essence was burnt and re-absorbed, flowing through every protrusion and orifice or Tartarus until, after the essence had been so violated it didn't know who it once was, it was sent for yet another brief breath of freedom. And so the cycle went on, and so it was with Nico. He would get brief moments where he would be above the ground, with Hazel and the others, and then Tartarus would pull him back and dance in front of him in the form of the viscous entrails of a Hellhound as they spilled out of a gaping wound, or the scarred breast of a gorgon as two tributaries of milk and blood mixed into a river of fluid and dust. And he would hear

_ Screams in the dark _

and his hand would twitch to where his sword of darkness was, not that shadows could even hope to match the chaotic fire that was Tartarus. Because that was Tartarus. Not just a pit of darkness where the titans were imprisoned, not just the birthplace of monsters, not just hell because that was the Fields of Punishment and Nico had walked in them without flinching. No, Tartarus was was something that would defile you so much you forgot who you were, it would stick it's shadowy arm inside you and worm its way through your mortal ( _so mortal and frail and weak)_ bones and tendons into your marrow and go further; through your organs and your skin and your crotch and your brain until you ( _SCREAMED)_ didn't know who you were or what you stood for and you ( _IN THE DARK)_ just stumbled wearily until you died then and there. and all you did know were the

_ screams in the dark _

and-

"Nico?"

He jumped and spun around. Was it was an Empousai trying to lure him in, was it another trick of Tartarus to make sure he was never ever the same? Was it-

"It's me, Hazel."

Nico relaxed slightly, though his eyes stayed guarded and seemed to sink back into his skull leaving shadowy barriers of obsidian in their place. He stayed silent, and after a brief pause, Hazel said, "I'm worried about you."

He didn't say anything, only tightened his lips, and stared at his sister _(who isn't Bianca)_ with his eyes, those pitch-black walls of black glass that reflected Hazel's concerned stare right back at her.

"You didn't eat anything this morning," she said, "And you were fighting Venti all of last night."

Nico shrugged. Don't talk _(scream)_ , don't say anything _(SCREAM),_ don't forget what he was. His eyes had to reflect anything that came his way so he couldn't be violated, couldn't be understood. He couldn't protect himself in Tartarus _(IN THE DARK)_ but he could protect himself here. He couldn't be weak, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't, cou-

Hazel touched him.

The barriers that were erected from one end of his eye sockets to the other shattered and he glared at her in a mixture of the terror Hazel had seen in monsters as they had begged her for monsters before she killed them, and rabid ferocity she saw in a lycanthrope she had fought against. She instinctively brought her hand down to her waist to draw her spatha that normally banged awkwardly against her ankle whenever she wasn't riding Arion. Then she remembered that this was Nico, who had guided her and supported her in Camp Jupiter; Nico, who had been her only link to her father whose name she knew, but whose presence she was always in doubt of. This was Nico, but he had changed from his stay in Tartarus.

Nico saw his sister flinch back and it hurt him, almost as much as when Tartarus had shown him the flesh of a cyclops bubbling in a frothy white mass, then congealing into white fluid that swirled about malevolently. It looked like the literal seed of Tartarus, and looking back, Nico wondered if this was how the giants looked after Tartarus had spent his seed inside the earth itself. Did the earth bubble in agony as her children clawed their way out of her earthy womb? Did the trees wither as their sap and life was sent to nourish these monstrosities nature had given birth to? Did they open an eye that had been glued shut by the thick fluid, writhing ( _screaming)_ in agony _(the dark)_ as they were forced from the rotten earth to wage war on the heavens? Did they-

"What's going on?"

Frank appeared from his cabin and walked over to the two children of Hades with a quizzical expression. His thinner eyes were even narrower with concern as he stepped over to Hazel. He mistrusted Nico, scared of the shadows, scared of what lay inside. But Nico didn't dwell inside the shadows anymore, he had been enveloped by the darkness, because what shadow could ever survive when everything was dark. The shadow would disappear, and when the darkness was lifted the shadow would be changed, deformed, _(SCREAMING)_ and unrecognizable.

"It's fine, Frank," Hazel said, "Nico's not going to hurt us." She smiled weakly at Nico, whose eyes had retreated behind the tinted glass that reflected her fright and apprehension back at her. Frank nodded slowly, then asked, "How are you feeling?"

Nico shrugged again. The mouth was just another opening they _(the dark)_ used to worm their way inside you. He wouldn't open it _(scream)_ , he had to stay shut, he couldn't let anything invade him again. He had screamed over and over again in Tartarus and he would never do so again, even if he was sent to the Fields of Punishment where his body would be strung out and mutilated by the vengeance of the dead; even if he were to be ground to a pulp beneath a giant's foot, trailing splintered joints and staining the ground with bile; even if he were to be turned into vapor by Zeus, he would still be Nico di Angelo. He had screamed in Tartarus _(the dark)_ and been changed into the fallacy of a demi-god he was now, but never again.

He couldn't change _(scream),_ couldn't be twisted _(scream)_ into something he wasn't. He had to remember who he was, remember his name, remember his face, remember _(the screams)_ Bianca, remem-

"Nico?" Hazel said concernedly, "Do you want to go back to your room?"

He didn't say anything, but went back to his room, leaving Hazel clutching Frank's hand in worry while Frank's other arm was draped around her shoulder. His room was dim _(not_ _dark_ ), with torches that flickered with purple flames and cast dim shadows across the walls. Dim shadows, that were sometimes pulled back into the darkness, unrecognizable from the unknown curtain of black that hid terrors which made Nico want to _(SCREAM)_ curl up and hold onto the memories he had with Bianca, because that was the old Nico, the old Nico, the Nico he had been before his spine had arched in a rictus of agony as Tartarus dirtied him so badly he would never be the same again.

He always dreamt of horrors; of everything in the world that tormented him, that made him want to forget who he was, and tonight was no different. Tonight he dreamt of Bianca.

"You shouldn't blame yourself."

Her face was as pale and radiant as the day Artemis' moonlight had washed over her when she had _(left him)_ sworn herself into the Hunters. And she looked upon him with mercy and bliss and that was the worst thing. Every moment Nico looked at her round cheekbones, and here eyes that shone with forgiveness he was reminded of who he was once and he hated it. He hated staring up at the angel, who still thought he was the innocent ten year old who would never _(scream)_ kill an insect, and listened to her believe that he was something he wasn't.

"I love you, Nico, I always have." Bianca came up to him and cradled him against her. He was suddenly shorter, and rested his head on Bianca's soft shoulder.

He wasn't worthy of being loved. He wasn't that boy any more. He couldn't be, he couldn't be weak. Couldn't scream _(SCREAMSCREAMSCREAM)_ couldn't change couldn't change he was a shadow and he had to stay one. He had to know who he was, he was a shadow and he couldn't-

"It wasn't your fault that I died, Nico." Bianca said, caressing his long greasy hair that fell past his ears down to his shoulders, "And it wasn't your fault that-"

She shuddered, and then she gripped his shoulders more tightly, "you blamed me for it."

Nico jerked himself away in terror and stared up into the benevolent face of Percy. "It's okay, Nico." He smiled, "I never hated you, even though you hated me."

Nico tried to stammer something, but Percy advanced on him and held him like Bianca had. "I know you, I know you better than you do. I know exactly what you are, and I know every single one of your desires and fears."

Nico stared up into Percy's green eyes, but the more he looked the darker they became, until it seemed like he was staring into the depths of the sea where no light could penetrate, nor could any shadows follow. _(ITWASDARKDARKDARK!)_ Percy's voice gurgled slightly, as if he was coughing on water, and he stepped forward again. "I know what you want, and I know who you want. I can see right through you, after all, I'm the one that made you into the creature you are today."

Percy grinned, as Nico stumbled back, his eyes wide, and the layers of obsidian that once hid the windows to his soul were shattered. Percy's own eyes, now as dark _(DARK)_ as the depths of Tartarus stared into Nico, and he felt the familiar sensation of his mind being tested, probed, caressed, evaluated, and his whole frail body started trembling.

Percy hushed him, and was somehow able to embrace Nico. Nico felt Percy's chin resting against the crown of his head, felt his warmth, felt his strong arms hold him, and he struggled madly against this alluring yet terrifying grip. No, no, this thing that wasn't Percy knew him, he knew everything, and he could-

Nico didn't speak, he wouldn't _(scream)_ open his mouth, wouldn't open the door into his soul, wouldn't let this _thing_ in, wouldn't

_ scream in the dark _

and he-

arched back as Percy put his lips to Nico's. _(HISMOUTHHISMOUTH)_

_ No,no,no,no, _ __ this couldn't be happening. He felt this _thing (Percy)_ worm its way into him, felt his tongue exploring his jaw, his teeth, his throat, and reaching even lower, far further than a normal tongue could reach. He felt a glancing touch against the inside of his chest, and gagged as Percy's tongue methodically explored his innards. Nico scrabbled at Percy's body, but suddenly he was clawing skin instead of cloth and he was lying on his back, convulsing as Percy worked his way through Nico's body.

He could feel Percy's tongue, Percy's fingers, Percy's torso against his, and felt more, as cold wetness invaded him from the top and burning dryness did the same from the bottom. His eyes grew wider as he struggled to breathe _(NONOKILLMENOW)_ , but he couldn't. He only knew the sensation of Percy against his stomach, against his organs and bones, grinding him down until he didn't know who or where or what he was _(SOKILLME)_ , and until he

_ screamed in the dark _

and he knew that he would change, he would become something else and he wouldn't know what he was. Was he a monster, a shadow, a human, a shadow of a snake, a child of Tartarus, born out of it's seedy and humid loins? What was he? He was nothing, he was nothing, nothing, NOTHING and he was being crushed by Percy from the inside, experiencing revulsion and terror from the top along with agony and shame from the bottom. This couldn't be happening. Nico's thoughts went around in small tight circles in tandem to Percy, and he couldn't make a sound _(SCREAMPAINNONODARKNO)_ as he looked up into Percy's black eyes full of malice and vindictiveness.

He felt blood trickling down his body where Percy's fingers had dug into his flesh, and deeper down to his bone leaving holes that oozed pus and blood. He felt blood run down his leg, tainted with things far worse than pus or bile, tainted with things that made Nico thrash about with renewed strength whenever the thought crossed his mind. Tears, sweat, blood, bile, pus, snot, and other unmentionable things dampened the surface he was on and the two of them slid about in a dance as primal and ancient as Gaea herself, and the son of Hades forgot who he was and his name, only knew that he wasn't who he once was and that he

_ (COULDN'TBENONOSCREAMSKILLKILLSCREAMSPERCYINTHEDARKSCREAMSCREAMSNONONOCOULDN'TBEMOUTHSOULSEYESPERCYSCREAMSNONODARK) _

woke up. Nico thrashed around on his bedsheets before clutching himself tightly, holding and rocking himself, touching and feeling every inch of his body to make sure there weren't any scars. But there were, just none that could be reached. He had been scratched and scarred on the inside, and he screamed. He clawed at himself and beat himself as he buried his face into his pillow and screamed.

Screamed in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. This is probably the closest I've gotten to writing slash. It's also the darkest I've written. As you can probably tell, I don't do dark or slash very well.  
> Anyways, feedback's always appreciated. Just stating what you liked or what you didn't, what you thought needed improvement, etc.


End file.
